


Scars

by Glowstickia



Series: Echoes of You [14]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Bad Jokes, Friendship, Gen, Minor Injuries, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowstickia/pseuds/Glowstickia
Summary: A scar is an area of fibrous tissue that replaces normal skin after an injury. Echo has a few of them, reminders of how closely she danced with death, and with each, a different story to tell.
Relationships: Deacon (Fallout) & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Echoes of You [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718185
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. Chin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr ask prompt.
> 
> One word Prompt - 37. gone

Echo sat with her back against the wall as she gently cleaned the rifle in her lap. She hummed a little as Dogmeat laid on the floor nearby, his head resting on the teddy bear he found under a weather stained couch, making friends with dust bunnies a few days ago. Deacon fiddled with a hot plate he dug out of the broken cabinets he swore up and down he found them that way _Mom! Don’t take away his comic books please!_

“You having fun there?” she asked, looking over her shades as Deacon shook his hand with a grimace.

“Oodles.” He said and sucked his finger.

She grinned. “Really? I’m _shocked_.”

He made a popping sound as he removed his finger from his lips. “Hi, Shocked, I’m Deacon, nice to meet cha.” he held out his hand and she stuck out her tongue.

“So, I take it we’ll have to go with plan B on warm foods tonight, huh?” Echo asked, tossing her rag at his face.

He leaned to the side and it landed on his shoulder. “Nah, plan Delta Beta E-” He paused for a moment, as though something dawned on him.

“No, that’s not why I’m _Echo_.” She snorted, reading his thoughts, “BOS thought so when I saved a Paladin’s hide way back when.”

“Eugh,” He grimaced, and she raised a brow. “You? Helping?”

“You’re lucky I don’t have a second rag.”

“What can I say? Played my cards right.” He mimed holding a hand of cards and placed them on the ground before ‘spreading’ them out in front of her, “Well, well, well, will you look at that? Full house.”

Echo shook her head and gestured to the wide open ceiling across the room. “Nah, more like a half house.” She sighed as she leaned on her lap. Her shoulders dropped. “You…remind me a lot of him…”

“Well, there goes…the deposit…” Deacon’s playful grin dropped. His brow furrowed. “Er…is that a good thing or-”

“Mmm…” Echo’s lips thinned as she gently rubbed her chin. The groove of her scar just below her lower lip was smooth, hairless, and…healing. It’d be there for years to come, much like the one near her right eye…but it was of a different time, place, memory…

_Barclay leaned on the dirty counter of the diner and spread out the deck of waterlogged and faded cards onto its dusty surface. “Come one, come all!” He announced, with a lopsided grin and grand gesture of his wrist. “Pick a card! Any card!~”_

_Echo sighed loudly as she rubbed her forehead. “What if I say no?” Her head was starting to hurt._

_Nova slapped her hands on the counter and stared into Barclay’s bright, silver eyes, alive with mischief and joy, and tugged a card from the pile he laid out. Barclay grinned at his sister. “Alrighty-now_ **don’t** _tell me your card Nova.” He scooped up the row of cards back into the deck. Echo leaned a little. Queen of Hearts. Hm. She watched as Nova placed the card in the middle of the deck before he started to shuffle it. He grinned as he pulled out the top card. “Is_ **this** _your card?”_

_Queen of Hearts._

_Nova slapped her hands down on the counter. “HOLY SHIT-”_

Dogmeat whined, breaking Echo from her thoughts. She cleared her throat. “My brother…” she said at last, “he uh…you remind me a lot of him…” she scratched her chin, where the scar was healing, slowly, but no longer scabbing. She picked that away a long time ago. “Though, hard telling if he’s…around anymore.”

Deacon stared at her, his face neutral, and impossible to read with his sunglasses. Just like her… “Funny,” he said at last, breaking the silence with an ice pick and hammer, “I thought we were blood.”

“…” she frowned, “what?”

He gestured to his sunglasses, then to hers. “Don’t you _see_?” He said, with a sly grin, “We have each other’s eyes.”

Echo inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh…my god…” she shook a bit, as she forced herself to be quiet and to _**not**_ give into his bad joke who knows how fucking long he’s been holding onto that one. She steadied her breath as he beamed at her.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all night.”


	2. Arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another mission for the Railroad. 
> 
> And these agents forgot to bring their party hats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a tumblr ask prompt.
> 
> One word Prompt - 39. heartache
> 
> Thanks corvegaassemblyplant for being mean haha

Echo held her breath, steadied her aim, and pulled the trigger. “Got ‘em.” She grunted. Her focus returned to her scope as she swept the area, ignoring the blood seeping into the pavement of the unfortunate feral that came in her line of sight just seconds ago. Dogmeat’s tail thumped beside her. She smirked and gently patted his head, while keeping her eye on the street below. “How’d the recon go?” She asked, doing another gentle sweep with her eye.

“Oh, you know,” Deacon’s voice was steady. Tired. “Same ol’, smame old.” Echo pulled back from her scope to look at him in the eye-er, sunglasses. He gave her a lopsided grin. “Raiders hyped up on jet, cars being tickin’ time bombs, deathclaw rave party.” He shrugged as he leaned against the rusting air vents, far from the edge where her sniper rifle was propped.

“A party?” Echo placed an offending hand on her chest in mock gasp, “ _and you didn’t think to invite me?_ Rude.” She pulled Heartbreaker off the edge of the building and clicked the safety back in place as she cradled her sniper rifle. “Other than a few ferals,” she said, getting right back to business, “and some wild dogs, it's been quiet.” She turned to Dogmeat, who had been patiently waiting beside her, “Ain’t that right bud?”

Dogmeat boofed quietly as his tail thumped, sweeping bits of rubble to the side with his fur. Deacon hummed thoughtfully and rubbed his chin.

“What is it, oh wise one?” Echo asked, adjusting her sunglasses.

“How many targets did ya hit, Bullseye?”

She sighed. So, this is how it was gonna be. “Like…” she mentally tallied the rotting bodies in the street, “four. All headshots. All ferals.” She added. She rolled her eyes as her fingers dug around her pockets for more .308 ammo. She pulled out Hearbreaker’s magazine and reloaded. “Why?”

Deacon nodded to himself. “Coolarooni,” he clapped his hands, “now let’s blow this joint.” He pushed off the vent and re-adjusted his postal shoulder bag. “Bet we can hit up Mercer house before sundown.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as she clicked the magazine back in place. She bowed her head and started to repack her belongings. “Is there movement or any pressing concerns-” Orange flashed from the corner of her eye. Her hand snapped the air, catching the holodisktape before it hit her face. _Gunshots popped in the distance as chalk dust was smeared onto the holodisk. Leather gloved hands quickly shoved the holodisk into a blue and white mailbox._ She blinked away the vision and frowned at him as she tweaked her sunglasses with her free hand. Good, they were still on. “What’s this?” She asked, waving the holodisk in his general face direction.

“A message from one of our tourists.” He said, tugging the newsboy cap that wasn’t there a moment ago. “You may need to beef up security.”

Her lips thinned as she pulled out her bright red voice recorder from her bag and popped in the holodisk. She gently cradled Heartbreaker on her lap, and pressed play.

[ **Mercer here. Uh. In need of a heavy to clear route for package delivery. Runner suspect** **_the highwaymen_ ** **are biding their time. Cords attached**.]

Echo clicked the stop button and looked up to Deacon with a sigh. “They want their place back.”

Deacon bobbed his head and started making his way towards the fire escape. “Yep. And to think we took all those decorations down for nothing.”

Echo gagged, as she erased the tape and stuck the recorder in her backpack. “Ugh, please don’t remind me of their ‘party favors’. I _still_ have nightmares.” She shuddered and stood up. Oooooh damn. She hissed and stretched her ankles against the air vent. Dogmeat took the moment to stretch his legs and trot up next to her. He whined. She shook her head and patted his head. “Good boy.” After regripping Heartbreaker, and making sure her ushanka hat wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, she clicked her tongue. “C’mon boy, let’s move out.”

Dogmeat’s tail wagged as he followed. Echo smiled at him briefly, letting Dogmeat trail behind as she watched Deacon with a trained eye. His grip on the railing did not go unnoticed.

Echo followed Deacon’s lead as they traversed the streets. They _both_ knew he had a better sense of direction. Dogmeat trotted ahead and sniffed the ground. He, more than once, gently howled, warning them of nearby ferals...or dogs. With a few detours and the sun’s rays blinding them westward, they slowed their pace.

“We’re approaching Anna’s Cafe.” Deacon said, voice low as he checked the alleyway, silently stepping over tumbled brick and broken mortar.

Echo chewed her lip. “Think that’s where they’re camping?” When he turned, sunglasses matching hers, she sighed. “Greaaaaaaaaaat.” She grumbled, adjusting her grip on Heartbreaker. “And here we are without party favors.”

Deacon huffed a laugh. _Got ‘im_. “Really? Cause I made sure to bring a gift this time." He grinned as he clicked off the safety on his rifle.

Echo shook her head. "I told you before, your presence ain't a gift, _it's a curse_."

Deacon dramatically placed a hand over his heart, "Ouch," he grinned as he crouched down, "been hanging around Dez too much?"

Echo snorted as she joined him. "No, though I have heard something from Tinker Tom about you meddling with the time stream."

He chuckled. "Ah, good ol' Tom. He _knows_ I'm a delight, no matter the era." Dogmeat boofed quietly. He nodded. “See?”

Echo rolled her eyes and sighed. “Mhm.” She turned to Dogmeat and gave him a soft pat, “stay out of trouble.” Dogmeat’s tail thumped a little. She smirked at Deacon, “Ready to crash a party?”

Deacon matched her grin. “I call dibs on the snack bar.” Dogmeat trotted behind them as they snuck their way to the cafe.

It was a surprise party after all.

* * *

Echo hissed as she rolled to her side as her shoulder left throbbed. _Oooo, yep, yea that was gonna bruise_ . She huffed as she sat up and rubbed her mouth against the back of her wrist. A quick check, and yep, _nosebleed_ . She sighed loudly and looked around. Her ears were still ringing as the 200 years worth of radiated dust build up began to settle. One lens on her sunglasses was cracked. _Great. Fantastic. And her hat waaas…_ She patted her ears and was met with the soft padding of the ear flaps. _At least something wasn’t a total mess._

With determination and sheer stubbornness she pushed off the ground with her good arm and surveyed the damage. The cafe was still standing...miraculously. Foundation held on, but blood and gore was probably scattered everywhere upstairs. She wrinkled her nose at the thought and mentally backpedaled before kicking the door shut. “ _Focus_.” she reminded herself as she picked up Heartbreaker. She should reload, but-. Dogmeat whined to her left. Following the sound, she carefully stepped over empty tin cans and chunks of rubble, into the old cafe.

Laughter entered her ears as her hand gently brushed the doorframe. Its hinges were empty, void of a door that once stood proud, pristine, and kept out the summer winds and cold December chill. A cello thrummed in her mind as a lone radio sat in silence on the ruined countertop. The old register was dented, rusting, and wide open with a couple caps hiding inside. She leaned over the counter seeing a familiar pair of shades as Dogmeat barked up at her.

 _‘Watch out for flying glass’_ The music trilled. _‘Cause the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out-’_

Echo knocked on the counter. “Helloooo, I’d like some coffee?” She said, pushing through and brushing away the phantom music. “And my friend here is thinking about needing some pastries in a doggie bag?”

Dogmeat’s tail wagged as he walked over and sniffed Deacon’s chest. He grunted and groaned as Dogmeat gave his cheek a good cleaning. “Hey Bud.” He sucked in some air, “Sorry, ma’am, we’re fresh out.” Deacon righted his hat and sunglasses with his left hand, while he left his right hand hidden from Echo’s current view.

Echo gave a couple short whistles. Deacon whined at the noise. Dogmeat sat tall as he looked up at her with his ears perked. She clicked her tongue and gestured with her head behind her. Dogmeat gave a soft boof and happily trotted to her side. She frowned, immediately seeing the shine of slick red on Deacon’s right arm. “You need a doc.”

“Hmm?” He looked down and blew a raspberry, “Workmen’s cooooomp.”

She set Heartbreaker against one of the once plush, red stools, and made her way around the counter. “Deeks,” she said, keeping her tone even as she set her backpack at their feet and crouched to his level. She clicked her tongue and Dogmeat appeared right beside her. “Dogmeat. Go find something soft.” She raised her left hand towards the stairs and winced. _Fuck...shoulder…_ Dogmeat boofed and ran up the stairs.

“Good man.” Deacon said, sitting up straighter with a grunt. “Seems like I won’t be the only one getting workman's comp ey?” He grinned showing too many teeth. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Echo hummed a bit. “No, pretty sure Carrington’s gonna chew you out more than me.” She opened her bag and began rummaging around in it. Where… “After all you are the _senior_ field agent, bucko.”

"To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters."

“Alright, King Lear.” She said, popping open a can of purified water, “Give me your arm and maybe I’ll make sure you won’t die.”

Deacon chuckled. “It was Regan.” He corrected as he raised his arm towards her. “And you’ve got better bedside manner than our resident ray of sunshine.”

Echo snorted as she poured a lil bit of the water onto his arm. “Yea? Never in all my years did I think I could surpass Mr. Sourpuss.” She sat the can down, while her free hand helped keep weight off his arm.

_Bullets cracked against the cement as she leaned against the wall, heart racing and drumming so loud he couldn’t think. High Rise chuckled beside him. “Close one, huh Deeks?” He flashed a grin on his face, wet with sweat and blood._

_“Not done yet.”_ She murmured.

“Bullseye,” Deacon whistled at her, “grip bit, ah, tight.” he hissed as her fingers released, leaving a faint ghost on his skin, “Damn,” his voice sounded tired, “had a grip like a mirelurk claw. You okay, Boss?”

Echo cleared her throat and set a bottle of vodka at their feet. “Fine.” she said, keeping it short so her voice wouldn’t betray her, “just...remembered someone is all.” It wasn’t a lie per se…

He arched an eyebrow at her, but for once, was quiet as she focused on cleaning his wound. It looked deep.

“You’re gonna need a stim.” She said, forcing herself to keep steady and calm and ignored the gunshots and H2’s whimpers in her head. She was _here_. It was just her, and Deacon, and Dogmeat. They just fought off the band of raiders in Anna’s Cafe. They’ll go to Hangman’s Alley and have a nice long rest in Mercer house. Then return to HQ in the morning. Back route. Report. And-

Dogmeat nuzzled her hands out of her bag as she blinked. His fur was...grounding as he let her rub his head.

“Hey boy,” she laughed a little, “was wondering when you’d be coming back.” He boofed. “Well? Find anything.” He barked softly and trotted off. She watched him climb the stairs until a soft cough caught her attention.

“ _Echo_ ,” Deacon leaned against the rubble behind him, adjusting slightly to dislodge whatever was poking his back. His brows scrunched ever so slightly, despite being obscured by his sunglasses, “didja forget to turn off the stove in HQ again?" he’s mouth twitched a smirk, “You _know_ Des hates burnt cookies.”

Echo snorted. “No, it’s not the stove. Besides, I’m pretty sure Drummer Boy was working on some casserole recipe tonight. Something about mole rats and tato’s.”

“Eugh, mole rat meatloaf…” He stuck his tongue out in disgust as Echo rummaged in her bag again, “Hope there’s not left overs.”

“Mmmm,” Echo pulled out the tin box marked with a + with duct tape. She popped it open and smiled a bit. 4 stims, some rolls of gauze, and a salve she learned to make a few-no longer than a few months ago. She picked up the stimpak. “Well, if there are, I’ll make sure to give my portion to you.” She flicked the stimpack, something she read in a medical journal a long time ago.

“You cruel mistress.” He scrunched his nose, “Having me suffer stomach aches alone? Criminal.” 

She swallowed as she looked at Deacon’s wound. She’d need to keep him steady to inject the stim, but… She huffed. “Hold still.” It didn’t give him a lot of time to react as her hand went to his wrist again and the stim worked its medical magic.

_The ground and walls were burned, charred slightly from laser blast and angry fire. She’d seen them before as his hand came back blackened by ash. He didn’t want to look at the body by the fallen shelf, he looked everywhere around the room, until he finally approached Tommy Whispers. The bruised eyes. Deliverer still in his hands. It was Tommy._

Echo exhaled as she busied herself with her bag. The stim was spent, but she could chuck it in boiled water later. Once sanitized maybe Carrington would let them take more than a few stims on these missions. Or maybe she could trade it for a discount-

Deacon cleared his throat as he sat up. His eyes, or what she could tell behind his sunglassed mask, stared at his skin as it closed the gap. “Think it’ll make a wicked scar or somethin’?”

She closed her bag and shrugged. “I mean it was pretty deep.” She pointed to the scar that stretched from her jaw and curved above her brow. “Though won’t make as sick of a story as this one. You’ll need to spice it up a bit.”

Deacon rubbed his chin in thought. “Mirelurk-nah didn’t bust any bones…” he snapped his fingers, “mole rats. Swarm of ‘em.”

Echo snorted. He was just throwing her off. “Ah, so you could get out of Drummer Boy’s mole rat meatloaf?”

Deacon crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “Exactly.”

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed you didn’t bring back any meat to contribute.” She stood and stretched her back, “Sun’s setting.” she said, walking around the counter and retrieving Heartbreaker. She hissed, swapping her rifle’s weight to her other arm. She didn’t have to turn around to see the arched brow or other such judgemental looks Deacon was giving her behind her back. “I’m fine.” she said, absolutely not fine, but she would be once she had some pain pills in her. Or something cold against the definite bruise on her shoulder. “Just fell a bit hard is all.”

Dogmeat gave a muffled bark as he dragged something heavy down the stairs. The duo turned and watched Dogmeat drag a super sledge to Deacon’s feet.

Deacon laughed as he picked up the super sledge and patted Dogmeat’s head. “Who’s a good boy?” Dogmeat danced, his front paws alternating in bounce as his tongue lolled out of his mouth. “Yea, you are bud. Finding weapons of mass destruction~” he rubbed Dogmeat’s face and lifted the sledge hammer.

“Welp, that explains why he was taking so long.” Her lips twitched a grin, “Gonna use that next time?”

“Oh fuck no.” He said, leaning on it, “You know I prefer sneakery.” He patted the handle, “Though I’m sure _someone_ would like this puppy.”

Echo gestured to Dogmeat. “Of course they would. No one can resist this face.” Dogmeat barked in agreement.

Deacon laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics Echo hears on the 'ghost radio' is from Orange Colored Sky by Nat King Cole.
> 
> Mercer house ended up in Hangman's Alley in my play through, and boy howdy bet those raiders were mad we kicked em out. :D

**Author's Note:**

> This definitely won't be the last you'll see of Echo. :3c Got some more shit planned~


End file.
